take them bowling
i was (finally) catching up on the pile of ink beside my bed, and i think that not reading these things for so long must have been the reason why this article caught me off guard.
around fifty 'ultras' ran into the crisol bookshop, when a 90 year-old exPCE (partido comunista español) leader was scheduled to give a talk on Santos Juilá's latest book. they pushed against the crowd and lunged forward to beat santiago carrillo up with the flag poles they waved, shouting 'murderers, murderers!!' but in the process hurt the people who tried to protect carrillo. they attempted to stuff a ball made out of extreme-right leaflets, that featured a website i am not even going to link to, into a maría antonia iglesias' (a female journalist) mouth.
i was sick to my stomach. i wish i could have puked but it's the sort of sick that claws at the back of the gastric lining, like a dead weight.
what sort of fuckfaces try to recall the 'old times' when political guerrilla tactics were used in the 30's?
it's a sad sad photograph, the one in the middle of the article, broken shelves on the floor, books scattered around. the black and whiteness emphasizes the feeling of... of... yuk. just yuk. plain yuk.
it hurts when you're reminded that fascism is still active, when my friend got thrown to the floor and beaten up by a bunch of young skinheads. i am wary of black bomber jackets, of shiny scalps, grouped in threes or fours. you become paranoid, put on a mask of nonchalance, and hope they don't sneer at your palestine scarf when you walk by.
granted, they are a minority.
a violent minority.